A Dark Place _ The Hunt For The Van Gogh Killer Begins m - Mary Alford Page 0,8
to his vanilla life. . . for now. But he had his next victim in his sights already. The beast who lived inside of him would soon be clawing to be released. And he couldn’t deny the beast for long.
He slid into his car and headed back to the barbed wire gate. Once the gate was locked and he’d turned onto the county road, his cell phone rang.
Her number. He glanced at the phone with distaste. Drawing in a deep breath, he picked it up and answered. “Hello, sweetheart.”
Chapter Three
“We found her.” Agent Luke Sorenson ended the call and faced the group who’d been working tirelessly to find Sylvia Abbott.
Olivia dropped what she was doing with a sinking feeling. The moment she caught a glimpse of Luke, the truth became clear. “She’s dead, isn’t she?”
Luke confirmed with a nod.
It was a kick in the gut that they hadn’t been able to save Sylvia before she died at the hands of a heartless killer. “Where was she found?” Olivia asked, her voice broken. Stomach knotted with regret.
“First Christian Church outside of Gaithersburg, Maryland. It’s a small church—around a hundred members. The pastor arrived this morning to work on his sermon for Sunday and found her at the altar. The police were called. They’re there now waiting for us. According to the detective who caught the case, the church leaves its doors open twenty-four-seven. They keep the pastor’s office and the media room locked, but otherwise everything is left open—even the annex. The pastor said people who travel through the area stop in to rest. Some even spend the night.” Luke stopped before stating the obvious. “There are going to be a lot of fingerprints.”
Olivia grabbed her jacket from the back of his chair. “It’s Tuesday. Did the pastor mention the last time he’d been at the church?”
“Sunday for the evening service. He stops by a couple of times during the week to check on things and prepare his sermon.”
Asher was already way ahead of her. “I’ll drive.” He headed out the door. This wasn’t the news they wanted to hear, but it was crucial that they work the crime scene carefully. They couldn’t afford to miss anything.
“Declan and I are right behind you,” Luke called after them.
Olivia raced to catch up to her partner. Both hit the back entrance and hurried to the parking area for employees. Asher slid into the driver’s seat and barely waited until Olivia was in the vehicle before he reversed.
While the SUV sped toward the location of their latest body, all Olivia could think about was the pain that would be coming Sylvia’s parents' way when they learned about their only child’s death.
“Why a church?” She faced her partner. “He’s always left the victims at the Anacostia Park.”
Asher glanced over at her. “I wish I knew. Nothing about this new Van Gogh makes sense.”
She agreed. Most serial killers kept to a certain pattern, but this guy wasn’t playing according to normal.
She and Asher made the rest of the trip in silence. Olivia had worked the Van Gogh case since she’d been assigned to the task force, but she was not part of the original investigators like Asher and Declan.
Still, Olivia had done her homework. The Van Gogh Killers had claimed five lives that they knew of before they took Lizzy Grayson. She was the only victim to date to survive. Was it because Edward Buckley realized she was his granddaughter?
She’d read Buckley’s file after Lizzy identified him as part of the two-man team of serial killers. The man was a sociopath who had killed his wife in cold blood. He’d been sent to prison for the murder, leaving his son and daughter to be raised by family members. And it was that son—Martin Collins—who had orchestrated Buckley’s escape from prison where he’d been on the run ever since.
Olivia’s belief was that Buckley had more body counts associated with his name than the five victims assigned to Van Gogh. So far, there was little background on Edward Buckley’s childhood. Was it something buried in his childhood, a fascination with Van Gogh’s work that made Buckley choose Starry Night as one of his calling cards? Then there was the strange fetish of cutting off the victim’s lower part of the left ear and sending it to the FBI. It spoke of a twisted fascination with the Dutch artist.
So far, there had been no trophy sent to the Bureau. Declan and Luke hadn’t found the usual Starry Night at